


But if you close your eyes (does it almost feel like nothings changed at all?)

by KeepGoing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is your typical Stiles leaves Beacon Hills for college after High School but first sees Derek before he goes.</p>
<p>This is set 10 years after that night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>But today isn’t about how much I’ve changed or haven’t. I promised I’d be here, so here I am. No apologies. No regrets. Just a bunch of empty promises wrapped up in a ‘I will be attending’ box I checked on the wedding invitation 4 months ago. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	But if you close your eyes (does it almost feel like nothings changed at all?)

I smooth my hand down the front of my suit jacket and decide for the 17th time to keep it unbuttoned. With a flick of my two fingers the sides come undone and it reveals the dark yet electric blue shirt I had boldly decided to wear.

I’ve always liked blue.

I fluff up my hair and take one last look in my old bedroom mirror. My dad hasn’t changed a thing. Its odd, almost like a shrine, everything exactly how I left it nearly 10 years ago. Same music posters belonging to artists I probably couldn’t sing one lyric to anymore. Same Lacrosse trophies I didn’t even earn by sitting on the bench most of my high school career. Same sheets. Same furniture. Same drapes on the window…

My Dad’s voice climbing up the stairs, since he’s been having trouble lately with his knees to do it himself, awakens me from my nostalgia. 

“Stiles? You ready, kiddo?”

I groan, pressing two fingers between the bridge of my nose. Nearly 30 and he still calls me kiddo. 

“Sure, Dad. One sec.” 

As I take one last look, one last turn around my childhood room, for a moment it feels like nothing has changed. Like, somehow, I’m still that kid who left this room all those years ago. 

In so many ways, I guess I still am. 

But in so many ways, I just can’t be. And I’m not.

But today isn’t about how much I’ve changed or haven’t. I promised I’d be here, so here I am. No apologies. No regrets. Just a bunch of empty promises wrapped up in a ‘I will be attending’ box I checked on the wedding invitation 4 months ago. 

So here I am. Attending. 

But barely breathing.

*********************************************************************  


_“Thought you’d be gone by now.”_

_His voice is gruff, more than usual._

_“Just thought I’d say goodbye.”_

_He huffs and turns the water off at the kitchen sink. He leans his wet hands on the counter in front of him._

_“Thought you’d be happy for me. That I’m getting out. That I’d be free.” I mumble, stepping further into the loft, even though I should be halfway to Boston by now._

_“You think you can just leave this town and suddenly you’re free, Stiles? Trust me, I’ve tried that, you’ll never be free.” He wipes the remaining wetness from his hands on his jeans and comes around the counter toward me. But he keeps his distance. He always has._

_“I’m not you.”_

_He nods and purses his lips together. “No.” He pauses. “You’re definitely not.”_

_“I’m getting out.” I remind him._

_“Good for you.”_

_“It is good for me!” I yell. He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Don’t give me that look. It is! I’m not gonna stay here and just…”_

_“And just what, Stiles? Be with your friends? Fight?” He demands._

_“Fight, what? There’s nothing left to fight for, Derek!”_

_His eyes soften, for just a fleeting moment before hardening once again. “No I suppose there isn’t.”_

*********************************************************************

 

Purple flowers. Fucking everywhere. 

Fucking Lydia. 

The ceremony was beautiful. The fact that they decided to get married in a church still bewilders me, but hey, to each their own. I had to hesitate as I stepped into the wide open wood doors into the church, and during the whole ceremony I was sure I’d burst into flames at any moment. 

But now I’m safe and sound in the great open outdoors of Beacon Hills Country Club. Everyone who's everyone is here. Lydia looks gorgeous and the more she smiles and her long fluff of a wedding dress swirling as she walks and turns to hug more people, the angrier I get that she didn’t get out of this God forsaken town. But she said with sad eyes and a crooked smile the day I left that she felt like she had more work to do here. And when she was done, she would finally go. 

She never did. 

But I guess I should be happy they finally found each other through all the mess and grief. I should be happy for my two best friends. 

Who are barely my friends anymore.

I should have been more surprised when I saw the invitation in my mailbox. The invitation my dad had to forward to me because no one knows my address in Cambridge. I should have been more open mouthed shocked when I saw her and Scott’s name under the ‘please join us in our love’ declaration. But to be honest, nothing has really made more sense. After Allison’s death, what better way to grieve and to heal than with each other? So no, I wasn't surprised. 

I was more shocked that they even invited me. Considering I had’nt spoken to either of them in 7 years. I came back for Mr. Mccall's funeral. I stood next to the person I once called my brother and patted his back as he gently wiped tears off his olive colored cheeks. I hugged him before the taxi took me back to the airport, my eyes locking with someone elses over Scotts shoulder before I closed the car door and swore to myself I’d never be back. 

Yeah, I know it’s shitty. But this place was shitty. I had a shitty time and had shitty things happen to me. 

“Hey.” His soft voice next to me makes my heart ache. For just a moment. I swallow my sip of wine and turn and give him a smile.

“Hey, you. Congrats.” 

He gives me a shy smile and gives me a small pat on the back. “You look good, Stiles.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Thanks. You, uh, too.”

I grip around my wine glass tightly. “So Derek as your best man. Guess a lot has changed.”

Scott sighs heavily next to me. “Yeah. Its been a long time. Stuff’s different now. I’m different. And so is he.”

I snort. “Yeah, I bet he is.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

_“Just try not to brood too much while I’m gone. Lighten up a little. Dont be such a sour wolf.”_

_He almost smirks. “Right.”_

_“So, yeah. So see ya, I guess.”_

_But I don't move. His eyes lift to mine just a few short feet away but somehow it feels like miles. Miles upon miles of mountains to climb over. Rivers to cross. Bridges that were built. All about to crumble when I walk out his door and away from Beacon Hills._

_People make promises. To keep in touch. That things won't change. But in this moment I feel everything change. The past 3 years passing me by but staying perfectly still in just seconds of breath._

_“I’ll miss you.” He whispers. I almost don't hear it. But I hear everything he says. And right now I hear him loud and clear._

_“Yeah?” I ask. He narrows his eyes. I step closer, diminishing the distance between us one last time. “Prove it.” I challenge him._

 

*********************************************************************

 

The soft night breeze sweeps over my lighter and I groan in protest. God, if anyone on the face of the planet ever needed a cigarette, it’s me right now. The universe hates me. It always has. 

“Smoking now? Classy.”

Her voice filters like the soft breeze that is the bane of my existence right now. But it calms me. Like it always used to. 

“Lydia.” 

“Stiles.”

I feel her hands wrap around my shoulders and I close my eyes at the contact. It feels nice to have human contact. I lean back against her as her hands reach around to provide shelter for my flame. 

I light my cigarette and her arms wrap around me protectively. I exhale smokey cancer into the air and she noses the back of my suit jacket.

“I’m glad you came.” She mumbles against cotton.

“Surprised you invited me.” I admit.

She smiles against my back. “It was a big discussion in our house. Should we or shouldn't we? Want the truth?”

“Always.”

“It was Derek who convinced us to invite you. Scott and I were back and forth. Would you really come. Did we really even want you here?”

“Nice, Lydia. Real nice.”

“Its the truth, Stiles. 7 years? 7 years and not one phone call? Not one text? You think we deserve that?” She demands.

No.

“No.” I whisper. “But it was something I had to do. I had to just...leave it all behind.”

“I think you’re full of shit. This has nothing to do with Beacon Hills or Banshees, and demons and Druids and festering magic that I know is still imbedded inside you. This is about him.”

I turn abruptly and stare at her wide eyed. 

“Oh? You think I didn't know?” She folds her arms against her designer wedding dress.

“He told you.” I mumble.

“Yes. Finally. When we were doing the wedding invites. Scott and I were arguing about inviting you. Discussing why you left and we almost didn't. We thought maybe it was just because you had to just...forget. But Derek was adamant it wasn't that. That there was something else, SOMEONE else keeping you away. And he admitted it. He told us what happened that night.”

“So he told you what he did then?”

Her eyes bug out of her head. “What HE did?”

I snort, turn away from her and take a long drag of my cigarette. Let the cancer come. I welcome it. “Of course.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

_“Stiles…don't.” He pleads._

_“Why not?” I nudge my nose against his stubble._

_“Because you’re leaving.”_

_“All the more reason. One night of crazy animalistic pleasure. Never to be spoken of again.”_

_He pulls back to look in my eyes. “That’s really what you want?”_

_I nod, inches from his lips. “Yeah.”_

_“Since when?”_

_I shrug. “Now. 3 years ago? Who knows? Does it matter?”_

_His eyes cloud over with something I can't quite put my finger on. I brush it aside to obsess over another time._

_“You still...a…” He trails off, hitches his breath._

_“A virgin? Yup. Squeaky clean as a white wedding bride.” I joke. He growls. My pants instantly grow tighter. “Give me this one thing, Derek. And then I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again if you dont want to. I’ll disappear forever.”_

_“You think thats what I wa-” I cut him off with my tongue forcing its way into his mouth and past his lips._

_He doesn't stop me._

 

*********************************************************************

 

I undo my tie and watch as Lydia and Scott make their way to their limo as everyone whistles and cheers and throws rice over the happy new couple. I stand back, away from the crowd and I want to smile for them. I want to join in on the clapping but I just don't have it in me. Its not that I’m not happy for them. I am. I’m thrilled and relieved they found each other. Maybe I’m just wallowing in my own self loathing. Maybe I’m jealous. 

Maybe I just miss them.

I came with my dad but I’m tempted to just call a cab so I can gather my stuff from the house and head back to Massachusetts early. I was supposed to stay a few days, I did promise him, but all this was just too much. I’m back in Beacon Hills for a little over 8 hours and I already feel like I have a ten ton anvil sitting on my chest.

I haven’t had a panic attack in 9 years. 

“Stiles.”

Well, it was 9 years.

I close my eyes and try to remember to breathe.

“Please.” I beg. “Dont.”

“How long you gonna run from me?”

I grit my teeth and my hands ball into fists at my side. “Fuck you, Derek. Seriously. Fuck. You.”

And then I run. I can hear my fathers voice yelling my name as my dress shoes take me far away from him and everything I left behind 10 years ago. 

Sometimes its best to just keep running.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“So that’s it?”

I shove the remainder of my clothes into my duffel bag and don't even look at my father.

“I have to get back to work.”

“Stiles…”

I finally look up at him. And there it is. The hurt. The confusion. He’ll never get it.

“I know a lot has changed. I understand why you felt the need to go all those years ago, but things are different now. You dont have to go.”

“My whole life is in Massachusetts!” I yell at him.

“What life?” He finally yells back. “Do you think for one second I still don't know you? All you do is work. You have no friends there. No girlfriend...have you even attempted to date anyone?”

I narrow my eyes at him. 

“Is this about Lydia and Scott getting married?”

And then I laugh. I laugh so hard in fact I have to sit on my desk chair from falling over. “No, Dad. Its not. It hasn't been about Lydia in a long time.”

“Then what?” He finds his way into my old room and sits gently on the edge of my bed, facing me. “Talk to me Stiles.” He pauses, looking down at his aged hands. “I miss you, you know.”

Christ. I rub my hands over my face. “I miss you too. This isn’t about you. I just...can't be here. Its all too much. I feel like I’m still…”

“Dodging ghosts?”

I look at him, his face tired. I nod. Because in a way he’s right.

“And you think running is going to help? You’ve never been the kind of person to run from ghosts. In high school-”

“Well this isn’t High School anymore, Dad. This is grown up time. And I’m an adult now.”

My father shakes his head, standing and walking towards the door. He’s done. I dont blame him. “No. You think you've grown up. But you haven't. You’ve regressed. Now you’re a scared little boy.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

I stare down at the hard marble now covered in pollen from the newly spring warmth. I smile and trace my fingers along the imbedded reminder of all I’ve lost. 

“Hey, Mom.” I whisper.

This is what I am the most ashamed of. Not being back to see my mother. 

I sit down, cross legged in front of her and hug my arms around my body. I hang my head down, my chin resting against my chest. “Sorry I haven’t been around.”

The wind picks up, the newly bloomed cherry blossoms raining down around me. I smile and feel tears well in my eyes. “Missed you too, Mom.”

The magic is still there. The magic I know I inherited from her. Sometimes it happens out of no where. I’ll be sitting on the couch, watching the new episode of Game of Thrones and I scream at the TV and suddenly a bulb breaks in the lamp next to me. 

Sometimes if my cigarette won't light, I just form the flame in the palm of my hand. Its something I learned to do my Senior year of High School. Harnessing my power. With the help of Deaton and…

Never mind.

Its a beautiful day. I feel warm in my jacket and I shuck it off my shoulders. Theres so much I should be saying to my mom. How I am. What’s been happening. What I’m doing with my life. But I sit in silence, eyes closed, enjoying her presence which I know is all around me. I feel it here. Sons and Mothers are supposed to be close. “Mommy’s little boy” she used to whisper to me even as I got older. But what we had, I know now, was more than that. It was special. More special than anything I ever had. 

Until…

Never mind.

My skin begins to prickle. 

How does he always find me?

“You still have that whole lurking thing down.”

“Guess some things never change.” He throws back.

I snort. He’s never been more right.

I feel his hand on my shoulder and I feel fire zap through my body like lightning. I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his long fingers. What am I even doing?

“Stiles…” He begins.

“Shhh. Just...I don't want to talk. Lets just...stay like this for a little while, okay? Then we can fight or...God I don't know, fuck maybe? But I just need some quiet.”

“If you want me to go, I will. I just had to try one more time.” He whispers.

I shake my head. “No. No. Just...stay.”

A chill falls over me as he removes his hand. He sits down next to me and before I know it I’m lying with my head in his lap. His nails rake over my scalp and I let myself cry for the first time in 10 years.

 

*********************************************************************

 

_His long and talented tongue makes its way down my spine and I keen and moan and writhe myself into his mattress and cotton sheets. I feel him smile at the small of my back. He has me. He always has._

_“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He mumbles between open mouth kisses on my skin._

_“M-me too.” I stutter, pushing myself back against his mouth. I’m pathetic. And horny. And I need him. More than I’ve ever needed anything._

_“You’re skin is perfect.”_

_I laugh and bury my face in my arms in front of me. “I’m pale as hell, Der.”_

_He licks a long line back up my spine before nibbling at the base of my neck. “No.” I hear the truth in his husky breath. “Its beautiful.”_

_“That’s classic coming from you. You may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I moan again as his hands comes around my thin waist and cups my balls gently._

_“The feeling is mutual, Stiles.”_

 

*********************************************************************

 

How did I end up back here? How? How did I end up standing in this loft after 10 years? After I swore I’d never do this to myself again. How I promised myself I wouldn't let him hurt me. Let him manipulate me. Let him…

He looks at me with those eyes and I…

“You’re different. I mean, Scott told me you were but…”

He drapes his leather jacket, (some things really don't change) over the barstool and shoves his hands in his jean pockets as deep as they will go. Maybe to keep himself from touching me. I know that feeling all too well.

“I guess.”

“I can't quite figure out how, though.”

He just stares at me. 

“I mean you look exactly the same. What are you like 40 now-”

He almost smirks. “35.”

I nod. “Well you look…” I clear my throat, and rub the back of my neck. “You look good, Derek.”

“You look skinny.” He throws back.

“What? I-” I look down at my skinny jeans and flannel shirt. “No. I-Really? I mean wasn't I always?”

“No. Not like this.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just...guess I didn't notice.”

“Well I do. And I’m gonna make you eat tonight.” He moves into the kitchen and begins to rummage through a drawer. “Do you still like Thai food?”

My eyes widen a little. “Tonight? What makes you think I’m staying-”

He shoots me a look that floods back so many memories I can barely breathe for a moment. Blue eyes or not, he’ll always be my Alpha.

“Right. Tonight it is.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

He orders enough food that would have fed the entire pack back in the day when we used to have weekly meetings here. And then some. 

But I eat. I eat so much in fact I am now passed out, unable to move on his black fluffy shag carpet he must have just gotten cause it feels new and comfy and yummy underneath me. I rub my belly, lifting my shirt up to my chest and moan. I hear a soft growl from his general direction and peek open one eye. 

“Oh stop.”

“Stiles. Do you have any idea what you being here is doing to me? Your smell alone…”

“Hey! Mr wolfie man...Derek person!” I yell. Okay so I may have had a few beers as well with dinner. “You’re the one who invited ME here. You knew what would happen. You knew how I smelled!”

He smiles at me and it literally melts me into the floor underneath the carpet. 

“There’s the Stiles I remember.”

“Yeah, just gotta get me drunk to find him.” I mumble, throwing my arm over my eyes, letting the buzz take full effect.

“No. He’s still there. You just pushed him so deep down he’s hard to find now.”

I groan. “Oh stop it with the over dramatics!”

“I’m over dramatic? Do you recall how you acted at Scotts Wedding?” He demands. I groan again. 

“Yes. I’m aware. I acted like a teenage girl. But seriously dude, do you have any idea what you did to me?”

“What...I did to...you…” He stammers. 

“Yes. You broke my widdle teenage heart.” I clutch my chest dramatically. God, I’m drunk.

He’s quiet for a long time and when I finally open my eyes and peak at him, his face is scrunched up and he looks almost sick. I sit up on my elbows. “Der…?”

And then I see it. He’s crying. 

“Derek?”

“Stiles...you…” he shakes his head and looks away. And then he sniffles and I swear to God, I feel my heart break into a million pieces in my chest. No. No. No way. I refuse to feel sorry for him. Good. I’m glad he’s crying. He should feel bad. I’ve been an emotional mess and recluse for the better part of 10 years and-

“You fucking destroyed me, Stiles.”

What.

 

*********************************************************************

 

_Theres beard burn on my ass cheeks and its the best feeling I have ever had in my life. That and the feel of his heart beating against my chest as he rubs his nose into my sweaty neck. I’m covered in cum, his and mine, sweat, and the scent of him and his mountain breeze fabric softener. I literally purr and he smiles against my skin._

_“You sound like a cat who is full after having a whole bowl of milk.” He mumbles as he kisses my shoulder._

_“Oh, I milked you, alright.”_

_His hot breath causes more condensation to form on my naked skin as he laughs against it. “That doesn't even make any sense.”_

_“Oh, you love it.” My eyes widen slightly at the word I just let pass through my lips. I can feel his heart speed up a bit and he pulls back, looking down at me and brushing my damp hair off my forehead._

_“Maybe I do.”_

_My breath hitches. He continues to play with my hair, twirling in his fingers, just staring at me. Like hes searching. Maybe he always has been. I dont know what to do so I lean up, smacking a kiss onto his chin. He lets out a low ‘mmm’ and rolls off me onto his back. A long satisfied sigh rolls past his lips and he scratches at his belly._

_“Who sounds like a cat now?”_

_His head makes a soft scratching sound as it rolls toward me. “I’m a wolf.”_

_“Don’t I know it. Rawr.” I poke his side and he quickly grabs my hand, but smiling none the less._

_“Don’t.”_

_“Oh my God. The big bad wolf is ticklish! Yes! Finally!” I pounce on him instantly my hands flying everywhere as my fingers work overtime to make him squirm and writhe. He’s laughing. And its so fucking beautiful. He’s so fucking beautiful. It hurts to look at him._

_I stop, looking down at him in awe. He cocks his head, just like a puppy, and it melts my heart._

_“I love you.” I blurt out softly._

_His eyes widen._

 

*********************************************************************

 

I sit all the way up and gawck at him. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“No! You…” He stands, pushing away the coffee table with his hands. He begins to pace in his bare feet across the loft, his hands in fists at his sides. My eyes follow him. 

“I, what, Derek? Made love with you, confessed my love for you and then what? Kicked you out? Oh no wait, that was YOU!” I scream, finally standing myself. 

“That’s not how it happened and you know it!” He barks back.

“Are you seriously joking right now? Dont you think I’ve analyzed that night over and over in my head every freaking day for the past 10 years? I’ve dissected it to a point I’m not sure it ever really even happened anymore.”

“It happened. Its all I think about.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, well, welcome to my world.”

And then its like a stand still. What is to be said now? Honestly? 

“Tell me how I possibly was the one who hurt you, Derek? Please. I’m dying to know.” I ask. 

He looks at me from across the loft. “I wanted you to stay. I didn't want you to…” He swallows. “Leave me.”

I feel my body start to shake. I want to cry. I want to hit him. I want to throw up.

“I didnt want to leave you, either.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

_He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe. He just...looks at me with a panicked look._

_“Derek…?” I want to ask him what he’s thinking. I want to ask him how he’s feeling. I have to know. I need to know. It could change everything._

_He shakes his head and I slowly move off of him. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He balances his palms on his naked knees and I see the stiffness in his back. I fucked up._

_“Derek, I’m sorry. It was just the heat of the moment. I didnt-”_

_“Stiles.” He warns. I shut my mouth._

_He sits there, his back to me, breathing heavily for what seems like an eternity. He finally straightens up a little and clears his throat. “You don't know...you're too young...I…”_

_I roll my eyes and get out of bed, searching the floor for my underwear. “Fuck you and my ‘too young’ bullshit.”_

_He turns, facing me now, white knuckling the mattress. “You are young. You haven't even experienced-”_

_“I HAVEN'T EXPERIENCED? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I scream, waving my t-shirt around in the air. “You know what I’ve been through. You think I don't know how I feel?”_

_“Just until a few months ago you were in love with Lydia!” He yells back. Touche._

_“Oh God. That was a little high school crush. It has nothing to do with-” I stop myself. His eyes widen._

_“What are you saying?” He asks gently._

_“What are you saying?” I return._

_“I’m not saying anything.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_Its a stand off. An emotionally stunted stand off._

_“Maybe this was a mistake.” He finally whispers._

_And there it is. Real, true heartbreak. I thought I had felt it with Lydia a million times over since grammar school, but that’s nothing compared to this feeling. I feel like I’m going to throw up and throw myself through a window all at the same time. I’m on fire, but I’m shaking. My chest hurts. This is nothing like a panic attack. I panic because I don't know what’s coming. Theres nothing coming from this._

_He doesn't want me._

_“Then what was this, huh? Why did you do this?” I ask._

_His eyes flash blue. “You asked for this. You asked me to give you this last thing.” He says sternly. “You got it. You can go off to college now, devirginized. You got what you wanted.”_

 

*********************************************************************

 

“I destroyed you?”

“I warned you! I told you-” He stops himself. He’s pacing again.

“You told me what, Derek?” I whisper.

“I didn't want you to kiss me. I told you not to. Because you were leaving and I knew…” He swallows and looks me dead in my eyes. They have never been so green. “I knew the second I touched you I wouldn't want to let go.”

“Then why...why did you?”

“Because its all you wanted. You said that.” He reminds me.

“But I told you I loved you! Doesn't that mean anything!?” I argue.

“Of course it did! But I thought you said it in the heat of the moment. People do that you know.” He mumbles. And then it hits me. Where all this is coming from. Where it came from 10 years ago.

“I’m not her, Derek.” I remind him. His face crumbles then tightens all in a few seconds. He narrows his eyes. 

“I’m not.” I pause. “And I meant what I said.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

_“You’re right. I did. I’m out. Thanks for the fuck. Good luck being all lonely and broody and pissed off.” I gather the rest of my clothes, shoving them onto my body as I make storm down the staircase, through the loft, toward the door. How could I have been so stupid? How could I possibly have thought he cared? That this could be anything then a teenage boys wet dream? He’s Derek Hale for Christs sake._

_“Stiles.” I hear his voice from the top of the stairs. I stop, turning slightly to look up at him. I know, somehow, this is the last time I’ll ever see him. So I drink in this sight. His bare chest, still sweaty from the pleasure of the two of us, his sweatpants hanging loosely off his muscular hips. His hair, every which way. Fuck. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Or probably will ever see._

_“Yeah.” I answer._

_He stares at me a while, maybe doing the same thing I am in this moment._

_“Stay...safe. Okay?”_

_The loft door slams one last time._

 

*********************************************************************

 

He nods, his mistakes and regrets flooding over him. I watch his demeanour change between all these different emotions. I wait for him. I always have been.

“Do you still?” He finally says so softly I barely hear him.

He can't look at him. I can barely look at him.

They say there are moments in your life, sometimes big, sometimes small, that change the course of who you are gonna be. Who you were. Who you are in this very second. This is one of those moments. If I tell him yes, of course I still love you, my whole world changes. Everything I worked so hard for. My home back in Cambridge. My job. Not to mention how hard I worked to get over him. To forget that night. They way he smelled. How he touched me. How much I fucking worshipped him. 

I could walk away. I could go back to the way things were. What if this doesn't work? What if we are just too different now? How could I come back here after everything? What would I do with my life? 

But he’s looking at me now, his stare barreling a hole through my heart. And I realize something. What life? My Dad’s right. I dont have one. Not there. Not away from him.

Derek is my life. He always has been.

But theres a chance I might not be his.

“Would it matter if I did?”

His eyes widen and he looks confused. I wait. I always will.

“Of course it matters. It always..” He trails off and I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. 

His mouth is on mine in seconds. He’s clawing at me. My clothes, my skin, my hair. He can't get close enough. He's whining, the wolf inside him free at last. 

He breaks the kiss after a few minutes, heaving and and growling and still pawing at me like a rabid dog. I take his face in my hands. 

“Shhh. Derek. I’m here. I’m right here.” I assure him. He calms, his eyes closing, pressing his cheek into my hand. 

“Tell me.” He begs. 

I brush my lips against his. “I love you. I’ve always fucking loved you.”

“I missed you so much.” He admits. I kiss his nose. His cheek. His chin. His forehead. He keens. “I changed. I thought maybe if I became the person you always said I was maybe you’d hear and come back. When I heard you were coming to the wedding I...I couldn't lose you again, Stiles. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t. You won't, Derek. Theres nothing out there for me. I know that now. I can't run from you. From this. Not anymore. Theres nothing left to run from. Theres only you. Theres only us.”

“Stay.” He asks softly. He nuzzles his nose against mine, all the while rutting his hard denim covered cock against mine. I moan softly.

“Yes.” I promise.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“I’m sorry.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck. I scratch my blunt nails down the hair that has formed on the side of his face. He’s letting his wolf come out.

And its fucking hot. 

“No. Dont hide. I like it.” 

He picks his head up, his teeth showing slightly over his plump lips. We’ve been kissing. A lot. For like hours. But when my hand found its way down the front of his jeans, everything changed from romantic and passionate to animalistic and hurried. 

There may have been a few pornographic exchanges with words like ‘cock’ and ‘tight hole’ and ‘cum’. I expect all of them physically.

“Yeah.” I wiggle my finger past his lips and run the tip along his fangs. I shudder. Fuck, its so hot.

“Have you ever-” 

“-Thought about being changed?” I finish for him. He nods.

“No. I kinda like the idea of being the human to your wolf.”

He growls and bites down just a tiny bit on my finger. “You are my human.”

I hum in agreement and lick my lips. “You gonna fuck me now, or what? Its been 10 years. I’m in serious withdrawal from your huge werewolf cock.”

“Thats good. Cause my huge werewolf cock has been aching for your tight human ass just as long.”

God, such a sweet talker. 

“Its all yours, sourwolf.” I tell him as my tongue slips into his mouth, rubbing against his growing fangs. 

 

*********************************************************************

 

I’m stretched. I’m full. My cum is begging to be shot all over his sheets. And as I feel the base of his dick swell, I know, this is it. If I allow this to happen we will be locked together. Not just for the hour or two it takes for his knot to go down, but forever. That is what it will mean to him. Goodbye, Massachusetts. Goodbye, awesome job in advertising. Goodbye, condo. Goodbye, everything I ran away to to get away from Beacon Hills. Hello, probably a job in law enforcement here in Beacon Hills. Hello, pack dinners every Monday night just like the ones my Dad tells me Derek, Scott, Lydia, Melissa, Chris Argent and him have. Sometimes Isaac even comes when he is in town. From what I hear he’s a model in Los Angeles. Of course he is. What else was he gonna do with all those scarves?

And hello, Derek. And everything that comes with him. He could be messy. But I know I’m the messy one and he’s gonna be the one cleaning up after me. Yelling at me to pick my socks up off the floor. I mean the hamper is right there. 

But the feel of his heartbeat against my back and the soft kisses he’s lying all over my skin and the way he keeps whispering promises of happiness and love and forever all in my ears, how could I not want this? I dont care if I end up working in Mcdonalds for the rest of my life as long as I get to come home to this man. This man who grew up and learned how to be a leader and a follower. An Alpha and a Beta. And sometimes, for a while even an Omega. A man who learned to trust. A man who let Scott take over and be the Alpha he was destined to be. A man who became a friend. To everyone.

A man who learned to love and let it go when he knew he needed to but held onto it until it came back to him. 

I want him. All of him. 

“Give it to me, Derek.” I know he’s trying so hard to hold it back. Trying to will it away, with the wishful thinking that maybe he can just cum without the knot. But he’s too far gone. And so I am.

“Stiles...if...I…” he grunts. 

“I know.” I moan. I’m so close it hurts. “I know. Just do it. Push it in. I want it. Please.”

He pushes bruises with his fingers into my hips and shoves his knot deep into my hole. I cry out from pleasure and pain. He presses his forehead to the back of my neck and bites down, but not enough to draw blood. I explode all over myself and the bed as he literally howls as he empties inside me. I feel it, hot and wet just filling me up over and over again. I never thought I could feel like this. This full. This loved.

This happy.

This is what I’ve been missing. 10 years is a long time. But the way he is wrapped around me, it feels like I’m back in High School again, feeling the same feeling I always had when he would stand near me as we all discuss how we are gonna take out the next big bad headed our way. 

I belong to him. And he belongs to me. 

We roll onto our sides, him locked inside me as he pets my stomach, smearing whatever cum I didn't dump all over the sheets onto my skin. He’s panting in my ear and I nuzzle back against him, a satisfied sound escaping my throat.

“Is it good?” I whisper. 

He half laughs, kissing my neck. “Yes, Stiles. Its fucking good.”

I smile. 

I wake up after being asleep for what seems like hours. It must have been a long time because the morning sun is beating in through the loft windows. I groan, stretching out my legs. I’m sore. I reach back to touch the sensitivity I feel radiating through my body. I graze Derek’s leg and he squirms. He makes an adorable moaning sound and touches my hole along side my finger.

“Does it hurt?” He asks. 

“A little. But its okay. Totally worth it.” 

And then, like magic, I feel the pain slowly dissolve and I know what he’s doing. “Derek…”

“Shhh. Relax.”

We shower, jerking each other off sleepily with soapy fingers. He makes us coffee and toast and I wander around the loft looking at all the things I didn't get to notice the night before. A plant, healthy and thriving in the corner of this living room. A DVD and CD collection. A Playstation. And pictures on his bookcase and hanging up. Some of his family I never thought I’d see him memorializing. And some of his pack. 

One, which I’m not even sure when it was taken, I stare at the longest. 

Its of me, Scott, Lydia, Allison, Isaac. I’m laughing, my mouth wide open and eyes squinted. Scott’s laughing too, his hand on my back. Lydia looks bored yet somewhat amused at whatever it was that made Scott and I crack up so much. Allison and Isaac look oddly out of place but somehow perfectly content next to each other. The picture is perfect. 

“You’re father gave me that.” I feel Derek come up behind me, his hand resting comfortably on my waist. “Its the last time I remember you looking so happy. I wanted to have it.”

“I was happy.” I whisper. “I had all my friends.” I pause. “And you. In a weird way.”

“You always had me Stiles. I was just too stubborn and broken to do anything about it.”

I turn and wrap my arm around his waist. “And now?”

He smiles, our eyes locking in the sunlight. “Now, I’m too stubborn to ever let you go, again.”

“I have to get all my stuff. Its so far away. And I have to quit my job. This is gonna be painful.”

“More painful than us being apart?” He asks. 

I rest my fingers delicately on his cheek. “Nothing will ever be as painful as that.”

“I love you, you know.” 

I feel my heart begin to actually flutter in my chest. He must hear it because he crooks an eyebrow. 

“I know. I love you too.”

“We’re gonna have everything.” He promises. “Dont worry about anything.”

“Doesn't it feel like everythings changed so much though? What if-” He puts his fingers to my lips to silence me.

“Close your eyes.”

I hesitate but finally give in to his request. 

“What do you feel?” He asks gently. 

I listen to the silence around me. The feeling of having him near me again, barely touching me but so close I can feel the tingles rising over my skin. 

“Like nothings changed at all.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

One Year Later:

“I’m still pissed you got to pick Scott as your best man. He’s been my best friend since the sandbox.” I hand him a glass of Champagne and glare at him. His ring clanks against the glass as he takes it from me.

“Oh stop. Lydia looks amazing in that white pants suit.” 

I glance at her as she makes her way through the crowd of people. Even at someone elses wedding, shes the center of attention. “Yeah. She really did do an amazing job.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to see my Dad beaming his proud father smile at me. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

“I know. I saw you crying. You’re such a sap, Dad.”

“Hey. My son got married today. Just wait until your kid gets married and you tell me you don't weep like a baby.” 

“Whoooooa there, Dad. Little too soon to be talking kids here. And in case you didn't notice Derek nor I have uteruses.” I remind him, clinking my glass against his.

“Mmmm hmmm. There’s always adoption!” He yells over his shoulder as he maneuvers around guests to get to Melissa. 

“Who’s adopting?” Isaac asks as he comes up behind Derek, grabbing a glass of Champagne. 

“No one.” 

Derek shoots me a look and I point my finger in his face. “Do not start with this again. I just passed the officers exam. Give me a few years okay? Then we can adopt the litter you want.” He kisses the tip of my finger and I melt. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” Isaac says softly. 

“Thanks for not wearing a scarf.” I raise my glass to him. He gives me a nasty look. 

“Be nice.” Derek whispers in my ear. 

“That was nice! I thanked him. Geeez.”

We both turn, looking out into the crowd who has gathered today. Old friends. New friends. Family. 

During the ceremony we left seven empty seats in the front row for the people who couldn't be here with us today. 

Allison. Boyd. Erica. Derek’s parents. Laura. And my mother. 

They would have been happy for us. Proud. I was proud of us. 

I glance at him and take in the sight of him in a tux. He’s smiling, the edges of his eyes crinkling with happiness. Its a look I didn't think I’d get used to at first. Him happy. Not angry or frowning. Every once in a while I ask him to give me his ‘grrr’ face just cause I miss it. He obliges. And his wolf still comes out when we fuck. 

And when we’re fighting.

And when he’s playing video games and losing.

Or when he’s stuck in traffic. 

But most of the time he’s smiling. 

He catches me looking at him and cocks his head. “What?”

I shake my head. “Just looking.”

He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. 

“Oooo! Picture perfect!” Lydia catches our moment and runs up, camera in hand. We both smile, our glasses touching as the flash goes off.

We’ll hang it on the wall next to the picture of our pack.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a lyric from "Pompeii" by Bastile.
> 
> This story is my baby. Only 7000 words but took me months. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always LOVE <3


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